Tuesday, June 14, 2011

OMFG! Help out a great group of guys!


Ever wanted to get in on the ground floor of something awesome? NOW YOU CAN!!! Click the link to find out how YOU can help us make a toy dream come true! If you love me, you'll do it. ;)

 Outlandish Mini-Figure Guys!

The awesome poster!

The back of the card the figures will come on.

So help us out, and get a piece of toy history!  And stop by and let us know you support the project!
OMFG! - Forum Mini Figs - The Discussion Thread

Thanks for stopping in!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


Part XXIII – Nurse Cohen’s Part

“Are you feeling better now, Mr. Tone?” the voice on an intercom says.
“No.  Where’s Dr. Smith?”
“Dr. Smith has… other responsibilities.  He has asked me to handle your care.  My name is Doctor Jones.  I’ll be back later to check on your progress.”
“Progress would be letting me the fuck out of here!”  Rock shouts, wriggling in his restraint jacket.

“Did you know about Dr. Smith?”
“Yeah,” Nurse Cohen answers.  “Creepy; he died watching Mr. Tone’s nightmares.”
“Weird,” the other nurse says.
“The look on his face when we found him… horrifying.  Like something had scared him to death.”
“Do you think a dream could really scare someone to death?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Nurse Cohen lies to the other nurse, fearing she might sound crazy if she told the truth.  The truth that what Nurse Cohen saw on the screen in the monitor room, the mere seconds of twilight terror she could bear to witness, have invaded her own dreams.  She has slept little, and that restless the past two nights.  She cannot banish the dark vision of those horrible shadow-lurkers, dancing their otherworldly dance to a terrible, alien statue.  She cannot, no matter how she tries, forget the face of Rock Tone as those shadow-lurkers danced their cursed dance around that twilight statue he was bound to.  The terror in his eyes was like nothing she could ever have imagined.

Later that evening, as she lay in bed drinking hooch and smoking Syneshtia Flower, she thinks of Rock Tone again.
‘I’d go crazy, too, if I had nightmares like his.  I’m sure we’ll help him.’  She turns off her light, and out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees a shadowy figure slither itself behind her dresser.  ‘I at least hope we can do something for me.  I’m starting to lose it.’  She closes her eyes, exhausted, but dreading the twilight dreamscape awaiting her, and fearing the shadow-lurkers that will certainly invade her dreams again this night.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

I know, we all kinda look the same

I know to the untrained eye, all Orthodox Jewish men look the same; black suits, hats, and beards. But if you look at the details, it's pretty easy to tell the difference between certain sects. I'll tell you how to tell a Satmar from a Lubavitcher from a regular Orthodox when they're outside their own neighborhoods.
It's all in the face and the attitude. If he's nervous, a bit uptight, and clearly doesn't want to interact with you, he's a Satmar. If he's got a serious, businesslike expression and manner (and probably on his cellphone), he's Orthodox. If he's happy, maybe smiling, and has a cool, casual confidence about him, he's a Lubavitcher.
There's also the distinctive hats each group wears, but I'll get into that another time. Now you can tell the difference, and won't confuse me for a 'regular' Orthodox guy. You can tell by my smile. :)